I’m happy to see that 2010 is winding to a close. It’s one of those—many—years I’d really like to forget. It’s hard to find much about it that’s worth keeping.
But perhaps I’m approaching this from the wrong direction. Maybe what I should be thinking about are the lessons I learned this year.
I learned that I should not try to override my core feelings, what you might call my instincts. Two and a half years ago, at my first interview for the job that took me to Seattle, I knew the hiring manager was crap at communication and that it would be damned near impossible to work for her. I was so besotted with how quickly a Fortune 50 company moved to hire me, I completely ignored that sense that it was not really right for me. Lesson: if there’s a Voice telling you something’s really, really wrong, listen to it.
I also learned that, if something’s innately wrong for me, no amount of effort is going to make it right. Lesson: square peg, round hole—just not going to work.
I learned that there are some locations that really wear on me. I knew that DC was as far South as I ever want to get (and I’ve lived in North Carolina), but I bought into the whole Seattle-is-cool crap. Lesson: I should have been more diligent about due diligence.
I learned that Fortune 50 companies can still have divisions that are dysfunctional, unprofitable and completely lacking in sense. And I do not thrive in such an environment. Lesson: pay attention when an interviewer describes the place as “like a startup with money.”
I learned that my self-confidence is much more fragile than I’d realized before, and that I need to figure out how to strengthen it. Lesson: like putting on weight and taking it off, letting a situation erode self-confidence is a lot easier than rebuilding it after it’s gone.
I learned that people I love can be taken away from me at a moment’s notice and that it’s a lot better to keep in touch with them no matter how miserable I feel about my life than to disappear into silence and then find out I’ll never be able to speak with him or her again. Lesson: being a friend means being there, regardless of what I have to offer at the moment.
I learned that a friend undergoing chemotherapy can look absolutely gorgeous when I do get a chance to see her. And that hearing her laugh at something I said is the best possible Christmas gift. Lesson: sometimes I get a reprieve at being a friend.
I learned that yoga does actually make me feel better. Lesson: some things just seem whacky until you actually try them.
So—assuming I can apply these lessons—2010 wasn’t a complete waste.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Customer service
While in Palm Springs I made the obligatory trip to Bristol Farms to get ingredients for two of the dinners my sister and I cooked.
I’ve been a BF fan since the 80s, when I lived a mile away from their South Pasadena store. You could get things there, like chayote or farro, that you couldn’t find at any other super market. A couple of years ago I picked up orange and lemon bitters there to take back to Virginia. It’s definitely upscale, but not as OTT as some places.
On this trip I had occasion to use the ladies room and saw something I’ve never encountered before:
I’ve been a BF fan since the 80s, when I lived a mile away from their South Pasadena store. You could get things there, like chayote or farro, that you couldn’t find at any other super market. A couple of years ago I picked up orange and lemon bitters there to take back to Virginia. It’s definitely upscale, but not as OTT as some places.
On this trip I had occasion to use the ladies room and saw something I’ve never encountered before:
I didn’t put it to the test by flipping the switch. I wonder how many false alarms they get on that?
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Back to the Bay
The drive back to the Bay Area from Palm Springs was much less eventful than the one down. Nothing but sunshine and semis, pretty much.
At least I could see the countryside—California’s central valley is a vortex for the state’s huge agricultural business. I passed orchards, vineyards and pasturelands.
There was also what I took to be an industrial-strength feedlot for cattle, which made me think (again) that the raising of animals for food on that scale isn’t a particularly good thing. There were thousands of cows there in corrals that went on beyond the horizon. And the stench went on for miles.
It’s interesting to me that to get from the South Bay to I-5 (the primary north-south superhighway) you have to make a jog from US 101 over to the valley, and 20 miles of that is on a two-lane road going through Gilroy.
That means that you’re at the mercy of HGVs, Sunday drivers, and local farm trucks, going 35-45 mph. Kind of throws your trip into slow motion. And you’d think that with the number of tractor-trailers making that joggle, someone would have built a better way.
I suppose it’s such a small portion of the overall trip that I shouldn’t cavil about it. It just seems so 1950s in a state that has always touted itself as a bellwether.
At least I could see the countryside—California’s central valley is a vortex for the state’s huge agricultural business. I passed orchards, vineyards and pasturelands.
There was also what I took to be an industrial-strength feedlot for cattle, which made me think (again) that the raising of animals for food on that scale isn’t a particularly good thing. There were thousands of cows there in corrals that went on beyond the horizon. And the stench went on for miles.
It’s interesting to me that to get from the South Bay to I-5 (the primary north-south superhighway) you have to make a jog from US 101 over to the valley, and 20 miles of that is on a two-lane road going through Gilroy.
That means that you’re at the mercy of HGVs, Sunday drivers, and local farm trucks, going 35-45 mph. Kind of throws your trip into slow motion. And you’d think that with the number of tractor-trailers making that joggle, someone would have built a better way.
I suppose it’s such a small portion of the overall trip that I shouldn’t cavil about it. It just seems so 1950s in a state that has always touted itself as a bellwether.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
This'll cut down on regifting...
This being Boxing Day, it seems appropriate to find out that Amazon has received a patent for an application that will allow recipients of gifts bought through the online retailer to swap them for something more desirable before they’re actually shipped.
If I understand this correctly, it would allow a user to register his/her standards (for want of a better term) for receiving items, either by type or by sender. This goes beyond the current wish list that you can post online letting the world & his wife know you’d really, really like an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle; a Tickle-Me Elmo; & two-carat FL princess-cut platinum-set stud earrings. Instead it allows you to instruct the greater Amazon marketplace that you won’t accept cubic zirconiums from anyone, or anything at all from Uncle Fred. That being the case, if Amazon detects any purchases of CZs (or anything from Uncle Fred) headed your way, it’ll alert you & allow you to convert whatever it is to something you’d prefer. Perhaps, in the case of the CZ, a Tickle-Me Elmo.
& it won’t notify the sender that you’ve made the swap.
(Amazon’s not doing this to make you happy, BTW. They’re doing it because it costs them money every time a piece of merchandise is returned & they’re looking to eliminate the cut into their profit margin.)
Now, I’ve been on the receiving end of some pretty ghastly presents, & I well know that some people just don’t have the gift for picking out the right gifts. But even so, I’m not sure I really like the idea of recipients essentially cutting the heart out of the concept of giving.
& if you can’t man up enough to explain to Uncle Fred that, while you really appreciate him sending you that very festive can of reindeer meat, you’ve been a vegan since you were 12 & are just crushed that you can’t enjoy his gift to the extent his thoughtfulness merits—then I’m not sure you deserve anything beyond a holiday card.
But I’m sure that most people will look upon this as a giant leap forward for raking in as much loot as possible with the least amount of ancillary trouble that accepting someone’s gift involves.
& since the Amazon patent includes the option of having the system send a thank-you note for the original gift, you’re off the hook for any display of civility at all in the transaction.
If I understand this correctly, it would allow a user to register his/her standards (for want of a better term) for receiving items, either by type or by sender. This goes beyond the current wish list that you can post online letting the world & his wife know you’d really, really like an official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle; a Tickle-Me Elmo; & two-carat FL princess-cut platinum-set stud earrings. Instead it allows you to instruct the greater Amazon marketplace that you won’t accept cubic zirconiums from anyone, or anything at all from Uncle Fred. That being the case, if Amazon detects any purchases of CZs (or anything from Uncle Fred) headed your way, it’ll alert you & allow you to convert whatever it is to something you’d prefer. Perhaps, in the case of the CZ, a Tickle-Me Elmo.
& it won’t notify the sender that you’ve made the swap.
(Amazon’s not doing this to make you happy, BTW. They’re doing it because it costs them money every time a piece of merchandise is returned & they’re looking to eliminate the cut into their profit margin.)
Now, I’ve been on the receiving end of some pretty ghastly presents, & I well know that some people just don’t have the gift for picking out the right gifts. But even so, I’m not sure I really like the idea of recipients essentially cutting the heart out of the concept of giving.
& if you can’t man up enough to explain to Uncle Fred that, while you really appreciate him sending you that very festive can of reindeer meat, you’ve been a vegan since you were 12 & are just crushed that you can’t enjoy his gift to the extent his thoughtfulness merits—then I’m not sure you deserve anything beyond a holiday card.
But I’m sure that most people will look upon this as a giant leap forward for raking in as much loot as possible with the least amount of ancillary trouble that accepting someone’s gift involves.
& since the Amazon patent includes the option of having the system send a thank-you note for the original gift, you’re off the hook for any display of civility at all in the transaction.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
25 December
It’s a quiet morning looking over the Palm Springs valley. Wind blowing away the wisps of sunrise-pink clouds & rustling the palm fronds, preparing for another temperate day.
My sister’s dog has just got up, ready for a brisk morning walk, then breakfast, then a hike, then a nap & then a walk.
Happy Christmas to all. I hope your day is as peaceful as this.
My sister’s dog has just got up, ready for a brisk morning walk, then breakfast, then a hike, then a nap & then a walk.
Happy Christmas to all. I hope your day is as peaceful as this.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Not exactly madeleines
On my way down to the Springs Wednesday I stopped off in Pasadena to get lunch at a dive I used to frequent near Cal Tech. Sadly, the place is looking a little dog-eared, and I wish I hadn’t gone.
It’s never been pretentious—only 21 places at the Formica counter, three deuces and two four-tops for groups. But there are only about seven of the swivel stools left; the rest of the seats are a mish-mash of chairs that look they came from garage sales. And I don’t think anything has been invested in the facilities for at least 15 years. (Certainly the ladies room is teetering on the edge of not being up to code.)
The burger was really not very good and at $6.75, grotesquely over-priced. And the pie crust didn’t seem as flaky as back in the day. I suppose that’s just me being a grumpy old stick-in-the-mud, but I was truly disappointed.
Back in said day, a couple owned and ran the joint: he flipped the burgers and she baked the pies. The waitresses made coffee in vacuum brewers (the only place I’ve ever seen them in use), and the clientele was a mix of South Lake Avenue business types, Techies and older, low-income neighbors. Now South Lake is all chain stores (a Macy’s in the old Bullock’s building) and the neighborhood has no one with an income below $250K. Only the Techies are constant.
Sometime in the late 70s or early 80s the kid who’d been working the grill with the old man took over and he’s run it ever since. He did some empire building—opening a second restaurant in Arcadia and, for a while, one in Northern California. They even had tee-shirts. Now it’s just the original one, and I didn’t see any sign of the owner.
The menu (on actual menu cards, in addition to the listing on the wall) includes fruit bowls and strip steaks, which I suppose appeals to the millennials. And there’s even beer and wine, which is just wrong, wrong, wrong.
Plus, it’s been discovered by the New York Times, which might explain some of the quality issues.
At least there’s no Wi-Fi. Yet.
It’s never been pretentious—only 21 places at the Formica counter, three deuces and two four-tops for groups. But there are only about seven of the swivel stools left; the rest of the seats are a mish-mash of chairs that look they came from garage sales. And I don’t think anything has been invested in the facilities for at least 15 years. (Certainly the ladies room is teetering on the edge of not being up to code.)
The burger was really not very good and at $6.75, grotesquely over-priced. And the pie crust didn’t seem as flaky as back in the day. I suppose that’s just me being a grumpy old stick-in-the-mud, but I was truly disappointed.
Back in said day, a couple owned and ran the joint: he flipped the burgers and she baked the pies. The waitresses made coffee in vacuum brewers (the only place I’ve ever seen them in use), and the clientele was a mix of South Lake Avenue business types, Techies and older, low-income neighbors. Now South Lake is all chain stores (a Macy’s in the old Bullock’s building) and the neighborhood has no one with an income below $250K. Only the Techies are constant.
Sometime in the late 70s or early 80s the kid who’d been working the grill with the old man took over and he’s run it ever since. He did some empire building—opening a second restaurant in Arcadia and, for a while, one in Northern California. They even had tee-shirts. Now it’s just the original one, and I didn’t see any sign of the owner.
The menu (on actual menu cards, in addition to the listing on the wall) includes fruit bowls and strip steaks, which I suppose appeals to the millennials. And there’s even beer and wine, which is just wrong, wrong, wrong.
Plus, it’s been discovered by the New York Times, which might explain some of the quality issues.
At least there’s no Wi-Fi. Yet.
Over the rivers
I’m in (finally) sunny Palm Springs for the holiday. It was quite the adventure getting here.
I’d thought about flying, but there are no non-stop flights from San José airport to Palm Springs (Alaska Air would have required me to fly up to Seattle and then down to the Springs, which I thought was just salt on old wounds), so I’d have had to fly out of SFO. When I calculated the time it would take to drive to the airport, park, shuttle, get through security, hope the flight left on time (as if) and then drive from the airport to my sister's place, it came to about six hours.
It’s an eight-hour drive.
Plus, no danger of getting felt up by THS. And I could bring a couple of bottles of sparkling wine with me without worrying about it exploding in the checked luggage.
So, there was a plan. But then The Storm came.
Southern California has been hit with several days and many inches of rain, and yesterday was pretty bad. (Not by, say, monsoon standards, but for SoCal, it was bad.)
It didn’t get dodgy until the Tejon Pass through the Tehachapais, when making out cars in front of you became problematic. And it was like that in spurts all the way down to San Bernardino County.
(This isn’t the worst rain I’ve driven through; that honor goes to a stretch of I-10 between Houston and Lafayette, La., when you couldn’t see the front of your car’s hood, much less the vehicle ahead of you. But at least then people didn’t continue driving at speed.)
The situation wasn’t helped by my sat-nav system telling me to go via the 71, 60 and I-215 freeways instead of out the 210.
But I eventually got here, much relieved to be out of the weather and the traffic. There’s no place in SoCal that’s not completely chockers with cars, semis and RVs.
The weather cleared up overnight and today it was warm enough for me to hop around town in short sleeves. (Although a considerable portion of this area was subject to flooding over the past day or so and today many roads are still closed. Those that aren’t have swathes of silt & rocks that mark where mobile lakes were yesterday.)
I’m really glad for the break and looking forward to the activities my sister and I have planned. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to visit my BFF, as well. That would be worth any drive.
I’d thought about flying, but there are no non-stop flights from San José airport to Palm Springs (Alaska Air would have required me to fly up to Seattle and then down to the Springs, which I thought was just salt on old wounds), so I’d have had to fly out of SFO. When I calculated the time it would take to drive to the airport, park, shuttle, get through security, hope the flight left on time (as if) and then drive from the airport to my sister's place, it came to about six hours.
It’s an eight-hour drive.
Plus, no danger of getting felt up by THS. And I could bring a couple of bottles of sparkling wine with me without worrying about it exploding in the checked luggage.
So, there was a plan. But then The Storm came.
Southern California has been hit with several days and many inches of rain, and yesterday was pretty bad. (Not by, say, monsoon standards, but for SoCal, it was bad.)
It didn’t get dodgy until the Tejon Pass through the Tehachapais, when making out cars in front of you became problematic. And it was like that in spurts all the way down to San Bernardino County.
(This isn’t the worst rain I’ve driven through; that honor goes to a stretch of I-10 between Houston and Lafayette, La., when you couldn’t see the front of your car’s hood, much less the vehicle ahead of you. But at least then people didn’t continue driving at speed.)
The situation wasn’t helped by my sat-nav system telling me to go via the 71, 60 and I-215 freeways instead of out the 210.
But I eventually got here, much relieved to be out of the weather and the traffic. There’s no place in SoCal that’s not completely chockers with cars, semis and RVs.
The weather cleared up overnight and today it was warm enough for me to hop around town in short sleeves. (Although a considerable portion of this area was subject to flooding over the past day or so and today many roads are still closed. Those that aren’t have swathes of silt & rocks that mark where mobile lakes were yesterday.)
I’m really glad for the break and looking forward to the activities my sister and I have planned. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to visit my BFF, as well. That would be worth any drive.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Recruiters 6
My latest bizarre recruiting experience: early last month I was contacted by yet another job-shop recruiter for a contract product marketing manager gig.
We had a go-around about the rate—it’s low & I said I’d consider it. She wanted me to guarantee that if the job were offered at that rate I’d take it. (& keep in mind that it’s not the client paying the rate, it’s the job-shop. They always tell you the client won’t pay the going rate, but it’s all down to what they want to fork out.)
Then she wanted me to sign a blanket authorization form saying her company could represent me exclusively to any position with the client, in this case, Symantec. I refused. I told her the form had to be specific to this requisition only. After a bunch of blather, she finally reworded it & I signed it.
Then nothing until this past Tuesday when she called me to congratulate me on being chosen (her words) for a phone screening by the hiring manager. By way of “prep” for this exciting event she sent me the same JD I already had, a link to the Symantec corporate site (in case I’m too dull-witted to find it on my own) & the name of the hiring manager. No information on the particular group, which of Symantec’s 12,843 products they support, into which industries; what their needs are, etc.
Now, when I looked him up on LinkedIn, imagine my surprise to find that his title is product marketing specialist, & he has 18 whole months of corporate experience, having graduated from Northwestern last year.
I queried her about this; took her a full day to get back to me all flustered to know what my concerns were. Uh, how about, how can someone with no experience manage someone who’s required to have a minimum of eight years of tech marketing? This woman was completely clueless. She’s not spoken with this guy, but she insisted he is the HM.
Well, then I asked her questions about the group, products, etc. & she knew nothing beyond the JD, kept assuring me that if I just address those requirements I’ll be in.
So when I finally took the call from Skippy on Thursday it was clear he is just out of school. He didn’t know enough about product marketing to ask me any questions about what I’ve done. He had me run through my résumé (& is so innocent of marketing expertise I could have told him I was training monkeys to form a string quartet & then spent a few years as an orthopedic surgeon & he wouldn’t have blinked), asked a canned “interview” question (tell about a time something failed & what you did about it) & wanted to know what I do outside of work. & he was done—at 20 minutes.
So I started asking him some questions about the group, the products, the challenges, etc. Skippy has a worker bee’s view of all of this, not a manager’s. He asked me to send him some clips of collateral (obviously on instructions from someone). & that was it.
When I contacted recruiter basically all she wanted to know was, is he going to have me in for an interview. (She didn’t even know what their timeframe is; I had to tell her.) Well—she’d have to ask him that. I’ve given up trying to read interviews.
I’ve heard nothing since Thursday. Skippy said they wanted to have this person in place by 3 January, but that’s not going to happen, given the holidays.
I saw the same gig posted on Saturday by another job shop—I don’t know whether that means the client has nixed all the current candidates, or whether that JS is still trying to source some.
Something did occur to me—Skippy told me that he’s a native to this area & only left to go to college. It’s possible that his father is a VP somewhere in Symantec & that he is indeed managing a group. But if so, that’s not going to end well.
At any rate—either the recruiting chick will call about an on-site interview or I’ll never hear from her again. Not sure which is the better option.
We had a go-around about the rate—it’s low & I said I’d consider it. She wanted me to guarantee that if the job were offered at that rate I’d take it. (& keep in mind that it’s not the client paying the rate, it’s the job-shop. They always tell you the client won’t pay the going rate, but it’s all down to what they want to fork out.)
Then she wanted me to sign a blanket authorization form saying her company could represent me exclusively to any position with the client, in this case, Symantec. I refused. I told her the form had to be specific to this requisition only. After a bunch of blather, she finally reworded it & I signed it.
Then nothing until this past Tuesday when she called me to congratulate me on being chosen (her words) for a phone screening by the hiring manager. By way of “prep” for this exciting event she sent me the same JD I already had, a link to the Symantec corporate site (in case I’m too dull-witted to find it on my own) & the name of the hiring manager. No information on the particular group, which of Symantec’s 12,843 products they support, into which industries; what their needs are, etc.
Now, when I looked him up on LinkedIn, imagine my surprise to find that his title is product marketing specialist, & he has 18 whole months of corporate experience, having graduated from Northwestern last year.
I queried her about this; took her a full day to get back to me all flustered to know what my concerns were. Uh, how about, how can someone with no experience manage someone who’s required to have a minimum of eight years of tech marketing? This woman was completely clueless. She’s not spoken with this guy, but she insisted he is the HM.
Well, then I asked her questions about the group, products, etc. & she knew nothing beyond the JD, kept assuring me that if I just address those requirements I’ll be in.
So when I finally took the call from Skippy on Thursday it was clear he is just out of school. He didn’t know enough about product marketing to ask me any questions about what I’ve done. He had me run through my résumé (& is so innocent of marketing expertise I could have told him I was training monkeys to form a string quartet & then spent a few years as an orthopedic surgeon & he wouldn’t have blinked), asked a canned “interview” question (tell about a time something failed & what you did about it) & wanted to know what I do outside of work. & he was done—at 20 minutes.
So I started asking him some questions about the group, the products, the challenges, etc. Skippy has a worker bee’s view of all of this, not a manager’s. He asked me to send him some clips of collateral (obviously on instructions from someone). & that was it.
When I contacted recruiter basically all she wanted to know was, is he going to have me in for an interview. (She didn’t even know what their timeframe is; I had to tell her.) Well—she’d have to ask him that. I’ve given up trying to read interviews.
I’ve heard nothing since Thursday. Skippy said they wanted to have this person in place by 3 January, but that’s not going to happen, given the holidays.
I saw the same gig posted on Saturday by another job shop—I don’t know whether that means the client has nixed all the current candidates, or whether that JS is still trying to source some.
Something did occur to me—Skippy told me that he’s a native to this area & only left to go to college. It’s possible that his father is a VP somewhere in Symantec & that he is indeed managing a group. But if so, that’s not going to end well.
At any rate—either the recruiting chick will call about an on-site interview or I’ll never hear from her again. Not sure which is the better option.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Festive San José
I got turfed out of the church kitchen on Saturday; too many people trying to get in school or court-ordered community service hours before the end of the year. So, unable to make lunch for the homeless, I walked over to Plaza César Chávez because San José, “the [self-styled] Capital of the Silicon Valley”, puts on “Christmas in the Park”, & I had to see it.
Yes, in the Capital of the Silicon Valley, in the Capital State of Political Correctness, they have Christmas in the Park. Not holidays, not winter solstice, Christmas.
Viz.:
It’s definitely California & Silicon Valley, though. Note the CDs on the tree on the left above, & the recycled water bottles on the tree below.
Yes, in the Capital of the Silicon Valley, in the Capital State of Political Correctness, they have Christmas in the Park. Not holidays, not winter solstice, Christmas.
Viz.:
& the presentation is all Christmas, all the time. Not a whiff of a menorah, no Kwanzaa colors. Just Christmas trees & displays of Santa’s workshops. The trees are decorated by local groups: scout troops, businesses, civic associations.
It’s definitely California & Silicon Valley, though. Note the CDs on the tree on the left above, & the recycled water bottles on the tree below.
The displays look like they’ve been recycled, too, year after year. Here’s one with a “Countdown to Christmas”:
Only I was there on the 17th, & the Christmas-o-meter appears stuck on 8.
The whole thing is relentlessly secular—just trees, Santas & elves. Even the very loud music piped throughout made no mention of wise men or mangers.
But it’s definitely California. Here’s what greets visitors at every entrance:
The whole thing is relentlessly secular—just trees, Santas & elves. Even the very loud music piped throughout made no mention of wise men or mangers.
But it’s definitely California. Here’s what greets visitors at every entrance:
Sunday, December 19, 2010
God bless us, every one
Filed under the heading of “America, goniff”, it turns out there’s a Klingon stage version of A Christmas Carol.
Well, if there’s pretty much every other kind of Christmas Carol (& there is), why not?
But am I the only one who thinks it’s odd that the pro from Dover is a Klingon-language expert from…Kentucky?
Well, if there’s pretty much every other kind of Christmas Carol (& there is), why not?
But am I the only one who thinks it’s odd that the pro from Dover is a Klingon-language expert from…Kentucky?
Thursday, December 16, 2010
All together, now...
Happy birthday, Ludwig van Beethoven!
Born on this day 240 years ago (presumptively, since he was baptized on 17 December 1770) in Bonn, Germany.
Without him our world today would lean just that more heavily in the direction of petulant pols, corrupt clergy, relentless corporate greed & other high crimes & misdemeanors.
So nibble a strudel & consider the mania the Japanese have for singing the Ninth Symphony en masse.
& Gott sei Dank for his genius & his perseverance.
Born on this day 240 years ago (presumptively, since he was baptized on 17 December 1770) in Bonn, Germany.
Without him our world today would lean just that more heavily in the direction of petulant pols, corrupt clergy, relentless corporate greed & other high crimes & misdemeanors.
So nibble a strudel & consider the mania the Japanese have for singing the Ninth Symphony en masse.
& Gott sei Dank for his genius & his perseverance.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Whinging on the Hill
You know, every time you think the US Senate has reached the utmost pinnacle of pettiness & puerility you discover that they’ve only reached the base station and have another 14,000 feet to go.
This week’s example is Democrat Harry Reid (Nev.) and Republicans Jim DeMint (S.C.) and Jon Kyl (Ariz.) getting exercised over who better understands the meaning of Christmas.
Well, actually, the ’Pubs’ noses are out of joint because Reid has threatened to keep the august body in session in the week between Christmas and New Year, to get some actual, you know, legislation passed. DeMint and Kyle accused Reid of waging war on Christmas and grandstanding; Reid pointed out that millions of working Americans don’t regularly get a week off at this time of year and the Senators should quit their whining.
I’d be more sympathetic to Reid if he’d not displayed symptoms of a spinectomy for the last two years and had used his majority leader position to wrangle the ’Pubs to the floor instead of letting them pontificate and posture when they should have been passing laws.
Mark Twain commented that Congressmen have “...the smallest minds and the selfishest souls and the cowardliest hearts that God makes.” That was more than 100 years ago and they’ve only got worse since.
This week’s example is Democrat Harry Reid (Nev.) and Republicans Jim DeMint (S.C.) and Jon Kyl (Ariz.) getting exercised over who better understands the meaning of Christmas.
Well, actually, the ’Pubs’ noses are out of joint because Reid has threatened to keep the august body in session in the week between Christmas and New Year, to get some actual, you know, legislation passed. DeMint and Kyle accused Reid of waging war on Christmas and grandstanding; Reid pointed out that millions of working Americans don’t regularly get a week off at this time of year and the Senators should quit their whining.
I’d be more sympathetic to Reid if he’d not displayed symptoms of a spinectomy for the last two years and had used his majority leader position to wrangle the ’Pubs to the floor instead of letting them pontificate and posture when they should have been passing laws.
Mark Twain commented that Congressmen have “...the smallest minds and the selfishest souls and the cowardliest hearts that God makes.” That was more than 100 years ago and they’ve only got worse since.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Palin in Haiti
When I heard Sarah Palin was tripping to Haiti I thought at first it must be a hoax. But it turns out that it’s real—or at least as real as the rest of her role in politics.
Then I thought, “Zut alors—earthquake, cholera & now this buffoon? How long must this beleaguered country suffer one disaster after another?”
I’m not the only one with that thought, of course. I mean, you shouldn’t get points for going for the obvious.
But “Palin in Haiti”—doesn’t that just cry out for an opera? Something with a lot of dramatics, a lot of malapropisms & a lot of big hair?
I’m thinking along the lines of the “La Bubba Vita” that was making the rounds in 2000-2001. Someone’s gotta step up to the plate on this one; the world really needs it.
Then I thought, “Zut alors—earthquake, cholera & now this buffoon? How long must this beleaguered country suffer one disaster after another?”
I’m not the only one with that thought, of course. I mean, you shouldn’t get points for going for the obvious.
But “Palin in Haiti”—doesn’t that just cry out for an opera? Something with a lot of dramatics, a lot of malapropisms & a lot of big hair?
I’m thinking along the lines of the “La Bubba Vita” that was making the rounds in 2000-2001. Someone’s gotta step up to the plate on this one; the world really needs it.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Recruiters 5
Suppose you’re an idiot. Suppose you’re a recruiter.
But I repeat myself.
Latest idiocies:
Email from a recruiter for a search product manager position requiring a “quantitative undergraduate degree” (which I don’t have). In Pennsylvania.
Email from a recruiter for a contract QA tester position. In Seattle. I don’t even know how he pulled my profile, except that I’ve worked with QA.
But the moron du jour is actually a duo from a job shop—recruiter and account manager. Although they claim the company serves many major tech companies in the area, all this recruiter has ever sent me are contract jobs for eBay and PayPal, clients of this particular account manager. (I asked the recruiter if my profile is even being considered for other clients; he assured me it is, but I doubt it.)
The latest was a contract product marketing manager for PayPal. About a week ago the AM sent me the job description and a list of experience the “hiring manager” wanted. I told her to go ahead and submit my CV, even though there was no stated rate.
A couple of days later the recruiter called to inform me that the HM “liked” my résumé, but had some concerns about specific experience that hadn’t been listed in the JD or her own list of desirables. (Evidently I’m supposed to pull that stuff out of the ether.) After some blather he came to the point—would I send him some “bullet points” to address them.
I did, although apparently he didn’t recognize them because I hadn’t actually made them bullets. He called about an hour later to ask if I was happy for them to send my few sentences over to the client or did I “want to change anything”. Uh—why would I want to do that? I responded to his points one by one. I’m afraid eight by ten color glossy photos with circles and arrows & a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one is would be difficult in an email.
But evidently they really wanted me to change something (although what, precisely, was never specified), because he put the AM on the phone and she asked me if I wanted the client to see that or did I want to change anything.
No—I understood that my response was going to the client so I framed it accordingly.
Oh.
And, BTW, I inquired—what is the hourly rate range? Well, she didn’t know. But it’s marketing, and they usually pay less for marketing than “for the other positions we’ve sent you.”
Considering that she’d sent me product manager, program manager, project manager and marketing manager positions (each one carrying a lower rate than the last), this didn’t bode well.
And she mentioned that the HM was already talking with a candidate who had all the experience she wanted.
So imagine my surprise when the recruiter called me last Wednesday chirping that they’d landed me a phone screening at 1000 on Friday! Well, I couldn’t do 1000, which caused major consternation, but eventually the time was set for 0900. He emphasized that this was my chance to “sell” myself, not one of my favorite things to do, especially if the HM says she’s already got what she needs.
But the corker was that at 0828 on Friday, the recruiter called to ask me if I was ready for the interview, did I need any further information, etc. I was really quite nonplussed because I didn’t get why there was such a big push for this one position (with no rate established).
But wait—there’s more.
Basically to make him feel useful I said it would be helpful to know more about the mission of this particular group. He knew nothing, of course, so he put me through to the AM and she didn’t know much more. But she also pointed out that this was my opportunity to sell myself. Implying that she’d gone out on a limb to get me a chance at the big time and I owed it to them to turn the HM around.
“Remember how all along we’ve had to push this woman…She thought you didn’t have the right skills on your résumé, so we had you respond to her concerns. She said she was already talking with someone who had the skills, but we convinced her she should give you a few minutes at least…”
And yet we aren’t done.
She asked me, “Did Diego give you any helpful tips? Like having your résumé and the job description in front of you? And having a notebook and pen so you can take notes?”
Excuse me? No, he did not, and he didn’t have to tell me to put my socks on before my shoes, either.
I informed her that I really don’t need to be told that, as I’m already prepared.
“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people don’t do that.”
Well, how do you ever get anyone placed, then?
And finally, she enjoined me, “If anything comes up between now and the interview, don't hesitate to give us a call”
In the 18 minutes between talking with her and talking with the HM? Does their year-end bonus depend on one more contract hook?
At any rate, I had a pleasant conversation with the “hiring manager”, who turned out to not actually be the hiring manager, but the first screener, as the position was replacing her. I called the recruiter shortly thereafter to let him know how it went and then went on with my day.
He called in the afternoon to report that the HM thought I had fine qualifications, but that she decided to go with the person she’d already decided on.
I just said that wasn’t surprising and I refrained from pointing out that this whole exercise had been a colossal waste of time.
I doubt he was equipped with a pencil and paper to write it down anyway.
But I repeat myself.
Latest idiocies:
Email from a recruiter for a search product manager position requiring a “quantitative undergraduate degree” (which I don’t have). In Pennsylvania.
Email from a recruiter for a contract QA tester position. In Seattle. I don’t even know how he pulled my profile, except that I’ve worked with QA.
But the moron du jour is actually a duo from a job shop—recruiter and account manager. Although they claim the company serves many major tech companies in the area, all this recruiter has ever sent me are contract jobs for eBay and PayPal, clients of this particular account manager. (I asked the recruiter if my profile is even being considered for other clients; he assured me it is, but I doubt it.)
The latest was a contract product marketing manager for PayPal. About a week ago the AM sent me the job description and a list of experience the “hiring manager” wanted. I told her to go ahead and submit my CV, even though there was no stated rate.
A couple of days later the recruiter called to inform me that the HM “liked” my résumé, but had some concerns about specific experience that hadn’t been listed in the JD or her own list of desirables. (Evidently I’m supposed to pull that stuff out of the ether.) After some blather he came to the point—would I send him some “bullet points” to address them.
I did, although apparently he didn’t recognize them because I hadn’t actually made them bullets. He called about an hour later to ask if I was happy for them to send my few sentences over to the client or did I “want to change anything”. Uh—why would I want to do that? I responded to his points one by one. I’m afraid eight by ten color glossy photos with circles and arrows & a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one is would be difficult in an email.
But evidently they really wanted me to change something (although what, precisely, was never specified), because he put the AM on the phone and she asked me if I wanted the client to see that or did I want to change anything.
No—I understood that my response was going to the client so I framed it accordingly.
Oh.
And, BTW, I inquired—what is the hourly rate range? Well, she didn’t know. But it’s marketing, and they usually pay less for marketing than “for the other positions we’ve sent you.”
Considering that she’d sent me product manager, program manager, project manager and marketing manager positions (each one carrying a lower rate than the last), this didn’t bode well.
And she mentioned that the HM was already talking with a candidate who had all the experience she wanted.
So imagine my surprise when the recruiter called me last Wednesday chirping that they’d landed me a phone screening at 1000 on Friday! Well, I couldn’t do 1000, which caused major consternation, but eventually the time was set for 0900. He emphasized that this was my chance to “sell” myself, not one of my favorite things to do, especially if the HM says she’s already got what she needs.
But the corker was that at 0828 on Friday, the recruiter called to ask me if I was ready for the interview, did I need any further information, etc. I was really quite nonplussed because I didn’t get why there was such a big push for this one position (with no rate established).
But wait—there’s more.
Basically to make him feel useful I said it would be helpful to know more about the mission of this particular group. He knew nothing, of course, so he put me through to the AM and she didn’t know much more. But she also pointed out that this was my opportunity to sell myself. Implying that she’d gone out on a limb to get me a chance at the big time and I owed it to them to turn the HM around.
“Remember how all along we’ve had to push this woman…She thought you didn’t have the right skills on your résumé, so we had you respond to her concerns. She said she was already talking with someone who had the skills, but we convinced her she should give you a few minutes at least…”
And yet we aren’t done.
She asked me, “Did Diego give you any helpful tips? Like having your résumé and the job description in front of you? And having a notebook and pen so you can take notes?”
Excuse me? No, he did not, and he didn’t have to tell me to put my socks on before my shoes, either.
I informed her that I really don’t need to be told that, as I’m already prepared.
“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people don’t do that.”
Well, how do you ever get anyone placed, then?
And finally, she enjoined me, “If anything comes up between now and the interview, don't hesitate to give us a call”
In the 18 minutes between talking with her and talking with the HM? Does their year-end bonus depend on one more contract hook?
At any rate, I had a pleasant conversation with the “hiring manager”, who turned out to not actually be the hiring manager, but the first screener, as the position was replacing her. I called the recruiter shortly thereafter to let him know how it went and then went on with my day.
He called in the afternoon to report that the HM thought I had fine qualifications, but that she decided to go with the person she’d already decided on.
I just said that wasn’t surprising and I refrained from pointing out that this whole exercise had been a colossal waste of time.
I doubt he was equipped with a pencil and paper to write it down anyway.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Thinking & eating
Not specific to the holidays, but certainly related to the pandemic of obesity spreading across North America and Europe, NPR reports on a study that seems to indicate that imagining that you’re eating something before you in fact do eat it may help you eat less of it.
I wouldn’t have been a good subject for the study, though: I don’t care about M&Ms at all.
Now, if we’d been talking truffles, here…
I wouldn’t have been a good subject for the study, though: I don’t care about M&Ms at all.
Now, if we’d been talking truffles, here…
Friday, December 10, 2010
Just (holiday) desserts
In case you’re stumped for caloric excess this holiday season, the WSJ has a story on Christmas-centric desserts out of Europe.
The one I’m most familiar with is panettone, which is pretty easy to find in the US. & I happen to like the candied fruit concept. Although I don’t particularly think of it as a dessert—I like it toasted with tea in the afternoon.
The plum pudding—well, the only example of that I’ve ever had was at the holiday lunch at the company canteen in Maidenhead. (Maidenhead is right next to Bray, where the Fat Duck mentioned in the article is located; but it’s a world away from any kind of Michelin recognition.) Like pretty much everything that came out of that kitchen, it was revolting. I was so looking forward to it because of Mrs. Cratchit’s success in A Christmas Carol; but that one time kind of put me off.
& I haven’t noticed plum pudding being “obligatory” everywhere, or even everywhere in the English-speaking nations, as claimed by the UK food writer. Even my friends in Britain don’t make it, they make Christmas cake, which is a form of fruitcake covered with marzipan & icing.
I do like mince pie, which is also huge in Britain. Only there it’s not “pie”, but “pies”—little tarts, really. Which you pick up with your fingers & eat without bothering with a fork, & let the crust crumbs be damned.
This was commented upon by the Navy Chaplain at the US Embassy during the Thanksgiving service held for Americans at St. Paul’s cathedral. He was letting the newbies know what to expect from Christmas (the Brits don’t bother with any other winter holidays; it’s all Christmas, all the time), & he was absolutely spot on.
At any rate, I pass this story on as a public service to holiday makers everywhere.
The one I’m most familiar with is panettone, which is pretty easy to find in the US. & I happen to like the candied fruit concept. Although I don’t particularly think of it as a dessert—I like it toasted with tea in the afternoon.
The plum pudding—well, the only example of that I’ve ever had was at the holiday lunch at the company canteen in Maidenhead. (Maidenhead is right next to Bray, where the Fat Duck mentioned in the article is located; but it’s a world away from any kind of Michelin recognition.) Like pretty much everything that came out of that kitchen, it was revolting. I was so looking forward to it because of Mrs. Cratchit’s success in A Christmas Carol; but that one time kind of put me off.
& I haven’t noticed plum pudding being “obligatory” everywhere, or even everywhere in the English-speaking nations, as claimed by the UK food writer. Even my friends in Britain don’t make it, they make Christmas cake, which is a form of fruitcake covered with marzipan & icing.
I do like mince pie, which is also huge in Britain. Only there it’s not “pie”, but “pies”—little tarts, really. Which you pick up with your fingers & eat without bothering with a fork, & let the crust crumbs be damned.
This was commented upon by the Navy Chaplain at the US Embassy during the Thanksgiving service held for Americans at St. Paul’s cathedral. He was letting the newbies know what to expect from Christmas (the Brits don’t bother with any other winter holidays; it’s all Christmas, all the time), & he was absolutely spot on.
At any rate, I pass this story on as a public service to holiday makers everywhere.
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Ready for a change
I can’t think that this comes as a surprise to anyone, but the world is becoming increasingly corrupt. So says a report by Transparency International, an organization that’s been tracking corruption since 1993.
At least 56% of people interviewed by TI globally believe their country is more corrupt now than in the past. And more than 50% of those in India, Afghanistan, Nigeria and Iraq say they’ve paid bribes, with the police being frequent recipients of the baksheesh.
Political parties top the list of perceived corruption: 80% think they’re rotten. Only surprise there is that the percentage isn’t above 95%. Religious groups don’t fare well, either—53% think they’re corrupt. Not what Buddha, Jesus or Mohammed probably had in mind—being poster boys for dishonesty and fraud.
The bribery factor is interesting: one in four surveyed reported having paid a bribe in the past year, many of which were to speed up the workings of government or to get services the citizens were already legally entitled to.
In the US, of course, most bribes are likely not to appear in this survey, as they are paid in the form of campaign contributions to elected officials, who’ve made the payments deductible from business taxes so as to ensure the money keeps flowing in.
That would probably explain why only 5% in the US report having paid a bribe.
Frankly, while not surprising, this news of the institutionalizing of corruption in the 21st Century is discouraging. Mankind certainly isn’t living up to its hype of working towards perfection.
At least 56% of people interviewed by TI globally believe their country is more corrupt now than in the past. And more than 50% of those in India, Afghanistan, Nigeria and Iraq say they’ve paid bribes, with the police being frequent recipients of the baksheesh.
Political parties top the list of perceived corruption: 80% think they’re rotten. Only surprise there is that the percentage isn’t above 95%. Religious groups don’t fare well, either—53% think they’re corrupt. Not what Buddha, Jesus or Mohammed probably had in mind—being poster boys for dishonesty and fraud.
The bribery factor is interesting: one in four surveyed reported having paid a bribe in the past year, many of which were to speed up the workings of government or to get services the citizens were already legally entitled to.
In the US, of course, most bribes are likely not to appear in this survey, as they are paid in the form of campaign contributions to elected officials, who’ve made the payments deductible from business taxes so as to ensure the money keeps flowing in.
That would probably explain why only 5% in the US report having paid a bribe.
Frankly, while not surprising, this news of the institutionalizing of corruption in the 21st Century is discouraging. Mankind certainly isn’t living up to its hype of working towards perfection.
What the ho? Part 2
This seasonal story is so San Francisco: the Macy’s downtown store fired its Santa after 20 years of service because “an older couple” complained about a joke he told.
That’s the PC part of the affair—that someone (apparently not there with young ‘uns; also very California) is offended, bitches and management haul out the axe. Neither Macy’s nor the pair have had any comment since the weekend when Santa was tossed from his sleigh.
I suppose the “older couple” doesn’t want word getting out that they’re the poker-sitters who got not just a store employee, but Santa Bleeding Claus, fired three weeks before Christmas.
It would be interesting to know what process Macy’s went through, too, before walking John Toomey out the door after his apparently spotless employment record of two decades—if there was any process at all besides throwing up their hands in horror at a single complaint.
But here’s the genuine, totally SF, part of the story: Toomey starts work tomorrow as the house Santa for Lefty O’Doul’s, a bar that serves food. Kids can talk to Santa while their parents toss back a couple beers or tequila shots. Really—the perfect solution for the holiday hamster wheel.
I just love the California version of the classics…
That’s the PC part of the affair—that someone (apparently not there with young ‘uns; also very California) is offended, bitches and management haul out the axe. Neither Macy’s nor the pair have had any comment since the weekend when Santa was tossed from his sleigh.
I suppose the “older couple” doesn’t want word getting out that they’re the poker-sitters who got not just a store employee, but Santa Bleeding Claus, fired three weeks before Christmas.
It would be interesting to know what process Macy’s went through, too, before walking John Toomey out the door after his apparently spotless employment record of two decades—if there was any process at all besides throwing up their hands in horror at a single complaint.
But here’s the genuine, totally SF, part of the story: Toomey starts work tomorrow as the house Santa for Lefty O’Doul’s, a bar that serves food. Kids can talk to Santa while their parents toss back a couple beers or tequila shots. Really—the perfect solution for the holiday hamster wheel.
I just love the California version of the classics…
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
What the ho?
You know, you can always count on California for something goofy.
It’s not just that there’s a SantaCon in San Francisco; there are SantaCons in other places, too. Or even that there are rules to the SF SantaCon (mostly to do with not being a red-suited jerk).
It’s that someone here went to extraordinary lengths to be a desaturated Santa—suit, makeup, hair all in grey-tones, looking like she was PhotoShopped into the pictures of the event.
California—goniff!
It’s not just that there’s a SantaCon in San Francisco; there are SantaCons in other places, too. Or even that there are rules to the SF SantaCon (mostly to do with not being a red-suited jerk).
It’s that someone here went to extraordinary lengths to be a desaturated Santa—suit, makeup, hair all in grey-tones, looking like she was PhotoShopped into the pictures of the event.
California—goniff!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Weighty matters
Uh, oh—the Europeans appear to be doing their best to catch up with the US in the obesity stakes. The BBC reports that more than half of adults living in Europe are overweight or obese, with the UK leading the pack.
I suppose we have the same root causes to blame: sedentary life style & increasingly crap diet. Sad to think that Romania currently appears to have the lowest percentage of lardbutts; & I don’t really want to explore why that would be. But I hope they learn from our experience & take steps to reverse the trend before it starts costing them what we've had to pay in healthcare costs & lost productivity.
I suppose we have the same root causes to blame: sedentary life style & increasingly crap diet. Sad to think that Romania currently appears to have the lowest percentage of lardbutts; & I don’t really want to explore why that would be. But I hope they learn from our experience & take steps to reverse the trend before it starts costing them what we've had to pay in healthcare costs & lost productivity.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Recruiters 4
Ah, recruiters—really, the one fixed point in a changing age. I had encounters with three of them late last week that reinforce my query: how is it that they stay employed?
The first, from CyberCoders, a tech job shop I’ve dealt with marginally before, popped up on the email account that appears on my résumé, chirping that she has a product manager position for a client in San Mateo & would like to know my interest.
Actually, here’s exactly what she said: “I am a recruiter here at CyberCoders who specializes in finding Product Manager candidates as well as similar positions in San Mateo, CA and other locations nationwide.
“I thought you may be interested in hearing more about the job below. Please check out the link and apply if you are interested in hearing more about the job. :)”
The job description in her email looked fine—the usual requirements for web apps PMs. But when I went to her site I saw that the position is slotted an entry-level salary. Out of courtesy I replied that the pay was lower than I’ll accept, but asked her to keep me in mind for other positions.
Her response: “Thank you for your response. It’s possible that I have an older version of your resume.”
Uh, no “older version” of my CV would indicate that I live in the Bay Area & I thus wouldn't have popped up on her database search, so she was either trying to snow me or she hadn’t bothered to read beyond the words “product” & “manager” on it.
Turns out it was probably the latter, as the next day, sent to the email account I use on Dice.com, I got this:
“As you may already know, I am a recruiter who specializes in finding Product Manager candidates as well as similar positions in San Mateo, CA and other locations nationwide.
“Your background may be a fit for the position below. Please check out the link and apply if you are interested in hearing more about the job.”
Now, my name is somewhat distinctive, so I find it hard to imagine that even a recruiter didn’t catch the same name on her two sources. Which leads me to believe that she really didn’t read anything on my CV besides “product” & “manager”. If she read anything—it may just be her key word search algorithm just kicks out the CV & she queues up the auto email.
Second bizarrity was someone claiming to be an executive recruiter, based in New York state. Here’s his email: “I tried calling but the number is disconnected.
“You had sent me a resume in March. I am working on a new search for a Director of Product Management in New Jersey. Are you still interested in hearing about opportunities?”
I replied that since I’ve moved from Seattle to the Bay Area, the number I had in March was indeed disconnected. But if he’d send me the JD I’d see if it was something I wanted to discuss.
He sent it to me, but added, “At this point the client is only considering people who live in Northern New Jersey or the Metro NYC area.
“Might you know someone?”
Well, since my previous location was also across the continent from his client, you have to wonder why he contacted me at all.
Except that he wanted the referral.
Finally, a job shop I’ve spoken with a few times since getting here—they claim to represent a lot of clients, but all they ever send me is contract work for PayPal & eBay. Yet another position has come up, would I be interested?
It’s product marketing, so, yes. But first I had to jump through hoops—send over “bullet points” on how my experience matches the requirements not stated in the JD. I did, but then got calls from the recruiter & the account manager asking if I was okay with them sending the bullets to the client, or did I want to change anything?
Uh, no—I wrote them specifically for the client…
Well, as to rate—the AM hasn’t worked with this group yet, but typically they pay less for marketing than for “the other positions we’ve discussed”.
Since we’ve “discussed” product management, project management, program management & marketing positions—& each one for a lower rate than the last—I didn’t know what to say. This company is really big on demanding all sorts of experience & senior capabilities (their descriptions often enjoin the candidate to “own” the product), but don’t seem to want to either hire someone permanently to do a job that’s by definition ongoing (& not project-based), or pay rates commensurate with the capabilities.
So, I’m not holding out any hopes for any of these, & all I can do is appreciate the amusement value of the high-tech pimp industry.
The first, from CyberCoders, a tech job shop I’ve dealt with marginally before, popped up on the email account that appears on my résumé, chirping that she has a product manager position for a client in San Mateo & would like to know my interest.
Actually, here’s exactly what she said: “I am a recruiter here at CyberCoders who specializes in finding Product Manager candidates as well as similar positions in San Mateo, CA and other locations nationwide.
“I thought you may be interested in hearing more about the job below. Please check out the link and apply if you are interested in hearing more about the job. :)”
The job description in her email looked fine—the usual requirements for web apps PMs. But when I went to her site I saw that the position is slotted an entry-level salary. Out of courtesy I replied that the pay was lower than I’ll accept, but asked her to keep me in mind for other positions.
Her response: “Thank you for your response. It’s possible that I have an older version of your resume.”
Uh, no “older version” of my CV would indicate that I live in the Bay Area & I thus wouldn't have popped up on her database search, so she was either trying to snow me or she hadn’t bothered to read beyond the words “product” & “manager” on it.
Turns out it was probably the latter, as the next day, sent to the email account I use on Dice.com, I got this:
“As you may already know, I am a recruiter who specializes in finding Product Manager candidates as well as similar positions in San Mateo, CA and other locations nationwide.
“Your background may be a fit for the position below. Please check out the link and apply if you are interested in hearing more about the job.”
Now, my name is somewhat distinctive, so I find it hard to imagine that even a recruiter didn’t catch the same name on her two sources. Which leads me to believe that she really didn’t read anything on my CV besides “product” & “manager”. If she read anything—it may just be her key word search algorithm just kicks out the CV & she queues up the auto email.
Second bizarrity was someone claiming to be an executive recruiter, based in New York state. Here’s his email: “I tried calling but the number is disconnected.
“You had sent me a resume in March. I am working on a new search for a Director of Product Management in New Jersey. Are you still interested in hearing about opportunities?”
I replied that since I’ve moved from Seattle to the Bay Area, the number I had in March was indeed disconnected. But if he’d send me the JD I’d see if it was something I wanted to discuss.
He sent it to me, but added, “At this point the client is only considering people who live in Northern New Jersey or the Metro NYC area.
“Might you know someone?”
Well, since my previous location was also across the continent from his client, you have to wonder why he contacted me at all.
Except that he wanted the referral.
Finally, a job shop I’ve spoken with a few times since getting here—they claim to represent a lot of clients, but all they ever send me is contract work for PayPal & eBay. Yet another position has come up, would I be interested?
It’s product marketing, so, yes. But first I had to jump through hoops—send over “bullet points” on how my experience matches the requirements not stated in the JD. I did, but then got calls from the recruiter & the account manager asking if I was okay with them sending the bullets to the client, or did I want to change anything?
Uh, no—I wrote them specifically for the client…
Well, as to rate—the AM hasn’t worked with this group yet, but typically they pay less for marketing than for “the other positions we’ve discussed”.
Since we’ve “discussed” product management, project management, program management & marketing positions—& each one for a lower rate than the last—I didn’t know what to say. This company is really big on demanding all sorts of experience & senior capabilities (their descriptions often enjoin the candidate to “own” the product), but don’t seem to want to either hire someone permanently to do a job that’s by definition ongoing (& not project-based), or pay rates commensurate with the capabilities.
So, I’m not holding out any hopes for any of these, & all I can do is appreciate the amusement value of the high-tech pimp industry.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Real estate news
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Arts & crap
Ah, a story for the season: Thomas Kinkade, the master of the Syrup School of Art Product, appears to have problems that slapping a coat of yellow paint on a canvas & “publishing” it won’t solve.
I know it’s mean-spirited to poke fun at someone when he’s down; but Kinkade—honestly, someone who panders to the, well, the tasteless en masse… I mean, if his little (or perhaps not so little) empire isn’t the triumph of marketing over substance, I don’t know what is.
I first saw his oeuvre in 2001, when I got back from three years overseas. The extent of his kitschiness just knocked me out. His paintings are as unartistic as you can get without having poker-playing dogs as your subjects or using black velvet as your canvas.
& then I saw the merchandise. Gawd.
At least we the taxpayers haven’t yet been called upon to bail his company out of bankruptcy. Although I suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.
I know it’s mean-spirited to poke fun at someone when he’s down; but Kinkade—honestly, someone who panders to the, well, the tasteless en masse… I mean, if his little (or perhaps not so little) empire isn’t the triumph of marketing over substance, I don’t know what is.
I first saw his oeuvre in 2001, when I got back from three years overseas. The extent of his kitschiness just knocked me out. His paintings are as unartistic as you can get without having poker-playing dogs as your subjects or using black velvet as your canvas.
& then I saw the merchandise. Gawd.
At least we the taxpayers haven’t yet been called upon to bail his company out of bankruptcy. Although I suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
We can hope
Andy Borowitz reports we’re in for big changes at airports: TMZ staff will replace TSA screeners since they can do the same job “but be more respectful & less invasive.”
Sadly, it’s only a spoof.
Sadly, it’s only a spoof.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Don't call him Shirley
Another light in the zaniness firmament has dimmed. Leslie Nielsen died yesterday at age 84.
Here’s a guy who built a career as a serious, not to say melodramatic, actor and then around age 50 he just hung a left straight into silliness. To the betterment of movies, audiences and society in general.
There’s a quote about him by Jerry Zucker, one of the team of lunatics who launched Nielsen’s second career in Airplane: “Leslie kept emitting gas in a very loud and embarrassing manner. We just assumed he'd been to Mexico or something. Then we found out he has this little rubber gadget that makes these terrible noises. And we realized that what we had here was a 10-year-old dipstick parading around as a genteel 50-year-old.”
People has a collection of clips from his movies. Two caveats: don’t be drinking anything whilst watching, as you’ll snort it out onto your keyboard; you might not want to view them at work, unless you don’t mind your colleagues thinking you’ve gone mental.
Most of the focus today will be on his movies—Airplane, the Naked Gun series, etc. But my fondest memory of him was his guest appearances on Due South as RCMP Sgt. Buck Frobisher. My favourite episode was “All the Queen’s Horses”, where he and his old partner (now deceased) rescue his partner’s son, Constable Benton Fraser, from a train that’s been taken over by an Insane Arms Dealer. It’s full of unconscious Mounties (members of the Musical Ride) who’ve been gassed by the IAD. But Frobisher escaped gassing because he was in the loo, on account of he’d had a hinky caribou burrito (or the like)…
Okay, I haven’t the words to explain it; you really do have to see it. When I got back from living in Europe at the end of 2001, knowing I was being laid off and not sure of employment prospects, I was in my house for a weekend before the cable could be connected. I pulled out the “All the Queen’s Horses” video and felt that in a world where Buck Frobisher could be a Mountie, maybe anything was possible.
Thanks, Leslie.
Here’s a guy who built a career as a serious, not to say melodramatic, actor and then around age 50 he just hung a left straight into silliness. To the betterment of movies, audiences and society in general.
There’s a quote about him by Jerry Zucker, one of the team of lunatics who launched Nielsen’s second career in Airplane: “Leslie kept emitting gas in a very loud and embarrassing manner. We just assumed he'd been to Mexico or something. Then we found out he has this little rubber gadget that makes these terrible noises. And we realized that what we had here was a 10-year-old dipstick parading around as a genteel 50-year-old.”
People has a collection of clips from his movies. Two caveats: don’t be drinking anything whilst watching, as you’ll snort it out onto your keyboard; you might not want to view them at work, unless you don’t mind your colleagues thinking you’ve gone mental.
Most of the focus today will be on his movies—Airplane, the Naked Gun series, etc. But my fondest memory of him was his guest appearances on Due South as RCMP Sgt. Buck Frobisher. My favourite episode was “All the Queen’s Horses”, where he and his old partner (now deceased) rescue his partner’s son, Constable Benton Fraser, from a train that’s been taken over by an Insane Arms Dealer. It’s full of unconscious Mounties (members of the Musical Ride) who’ve been gassed by the IAD. But Frobisher escaped gassing because he was in the loo, on account of he’d had a hinky caribou burrito (or the like)…
Okay, I haven’t the words to explain it; you really do have to see it. When I got back from living in Europe at the end of 2001, knowing I was being laid off and not sure of employment prospects, I was in my house for a weekend before the cable could be connected. I pulled out the “All the Queen’s Horses” video and felt that in a world where Buck Frobisher could be a Mountie, maybe anything was possible.
Thanks, Leslie.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
New meaning for social networking
File it under the heading You Can’t Make This Stuff Up: a New Jersey preacher who forbade his church leadership from having Facebook accounts because too many couples are using it as an adulterous hookups, has been caught in a sex scandal he produced all on his own, without the social media site.
There’s really not much I can add to this.
There’s really not much I can add to this.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thanksgiving 2010/Black Friday
Looks like Black Friday is living up to retailers’ expectations this year. The day after Thanksgiving, traditionally when the stores move from the red into the black, has been chockers with shoppers. & their wallets seem to be open.
None of the reporters out at the malls seems to have asked shoppers how they plan on paying for their purchases, but in an era when folks think it’s okay to 1)buy houses they can’t afford with mortgage payments they can’t make; & 2)play the victim when they’re foreclosed on, I guess “plans to pay” don’t figure large in their thinking process.
During Thanksgiving day, I had the TV on for a while. I marveled at the commercials for all the enormous bargains to be had at all the various emporia, but gawped even more at how early the stores were going to open today. Kohl’s, opening at 0300, put Macy’s & Wal-Mart (0500) to shame.
But then it turns out that Toys-R-Us made them all look like pikers: they started their Black Friday sales at 2200 on Thanksgiving itself. Jeez.
I had occasion to go to Trader Joe’s today—I needed milk—around 1030. Well, I turned into the parking lot around 1020, but it took me 10 minutes to get my car to the actual store. I’d completely forgot that that shopping centre has both a Wal-Mart & a Kohl’s in it. Both drivers & pedestrians were not paying any attention to what they were doing, so I had to be extra alert as I navigated the sudden-halts-in-anticipation-that-someone-was-ready-to-leave-a-parking-spot, the wandering shopping carts & wayward children.
TJ’s itself wasn’t at all crowded, which was a massive relief. As I made my exit out the back way, however, the experience was as nightmarish as the journey in: there’s a Sears there.
Since I’m making most of my holiday gifts & buying a few online, I’m going to be able to avoid bricks-&-mortar shopping over the next few weeks. I have this thing about not spending money I don’t have, which is good for my economy but apparently not for the nation’s.
But I can’t think of any bargain good enough to get me to line up in front of a Wal-Mart at 0300 in order to be among the first couple of hundred spenders into the store.
None of the reporters out at the malls seems to have asked shoppers how they plan on paying for their purchases, but in an era when folks think it’s okay to 1)buy houses they can’t afford with mortgage payments they can’t make; & 2)play the victim when they’re foreclosed on, I guess “plans to pay” don’t figure large in their thinking process.
During Thanksgiving day, I had the TV on for a while. I marveled at the commercials for all the enormous bargains to be had at all the various emporia, but gawped even more at how early the stores were going to open today. Kohl’s, opening at 0300, put Macy’s & Wal-Mart (0500) to shame.
But then it turns out that Toys-R-Us made them all look like pikers: they started their Black Friday sales at 2200 on Thanksgiving itself. Jeez.
I had occasion to go to Trader Joe’s today—I needed milk—around 1030. Well, I turned into the parking lot around 1020, but it took me 10 minutes to get my car to the actual store. I’d completely forgot that that shopping centre has both a Wal-Mart & a Kohl’s in it. Both drivers & pedestrians were not paying any attention to what they were doing, so I had to be extra alert as I navigated the sudden-halts-in-anticipation-that-someone-was-ready-to-leave-a-parking-spot, the wandering shopping carts & wayward children.
TJ’s itself wasn’t at all crowded, which was a massive relief. As I made my exit out the back way, however, the experience was as nightmarish as the journey in: there’s a Sears there.
Since I’m making most of my holiday gifts & buying a few online, I’m going to be able to avoid bricks-&-mortar shopping over the next few weeks. I have this thing about not spending money I don’t have, which is good for my economy but apparently not for the nation’s.
But I can’t think of any bargain good enough to get me to line up in front of a Wal-Mart at 0300 in order to be among the first couple of hundred spenders into the store.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thanksgiving 2010, Pt. 4
This being the one official day in the year set aside for thankfulness, I’ve been thinking about what in my life I’m grateful for. I’ll share.
My BFF Leilah is doing well after her surgery and even though it’s very rough for her after her chemotherapy sessions, she’s still able to send around links to both funny and inspiring videos.
I don’t live in Seattle. They got snow earlier this week &, as usual, the whole area ground to a halt. Pathetic, self-absorbed losers.
No one has better friends than I do. I don’t have to be successful, well-dressed or even coherent when we get together; they value me as I am, and I love them all. And I’m hoping I’ll make more in the Bay Area.
I’ve discovered yoga. I don’t know why it is that I should feel so much better even after doing just three warrior poses, but I do. I’ve gone so far as to buy my own mat.
I don’t have a job, which is very worrying, but I’m able to donate time to making meals for the homeless. Besides—I love chopping up the veggies for the soup.
I’m in a position to choose what kind of bread to have for my sandwich & whether I’ll have mayo or mustard on it. Or neither.
My cat came out from under the bed after only a few weeks. Usually she stays there for about six months after a move.
A year ago on Thanksgiving I was in Bordeaux, tracing a journey I’d made 30 years before and reminding myself that I am capable of achievements. Over the past year I’ve drifted away from that remembrance & that hope; but it’s still something I’m grateful for.
I’ve pared away my possessions—including my books—so I can live in a much smaller space.
Safeway had a sale on domestic Chandon and Moët bubbly; I have six bottles to see me through the holidays.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.
My BFF Leilah is doing well after her surgery and even though it’s very rough for her after her chemotherapy sessions, she’s still able to send around links to both funny and inspiring videos.
I don’t live in Seattle. They got snow earlier this week &, as usual, the whole area ground to a halt. Pathetic, self-absorbed losers.
No one has better friends than I do. I don’t have to be successful, well-dressed or even coherent when we get together; they value me as I am, and I love them all. And I’m hoping I’ll make more in the Bay Area.
I’ve discovered yoga. I don’t know why it is that I should feel so much better even after doing just three warrior poses, but I do. I’ve gone so far as to buy my own mat.
I don’t have a job, which is very worrying, but I’m able to donate time to making meals for the homeless. Besides—I love chopping up the veggies for the soup.
I’m in a position to choose what kind of bread to have for my sandwich & whether I’ll have mayo or mustard on it. Or neither.
My cat came out from under the bed after only a few weeks. Usually she stays there for about six months after a move.
A year ago on Thanksgiving I was in Bordeaux, tracing a journey I’d made 30 years before and reminding myself that I am capable of achievements. Over the past year I’ve drifted away from that remembrance & that hope; but it’s still something I’m grateful for.
I’ve pared away my possessions—including my books—so I can live in a much smaller space.
Safeway had a sale on domestic Chandon and Moët bubbly; I have six bottles to see me through the holidays.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Flying high without a clue
Okay, I’ve been kvetching about the bureaucratic side of air travel. And don’t even get me started on the airlines’ business model of offering a product at prices below their operating costs and thus making their customers their whipping boys. (Notice I said “product” not “service”.)
But evidently the flying public also don’t have the sense they were born with and were raised by a particularly unmannered pack of wolves. I mean, come on—smuggling weed into Jamaica? Seriously?
I have to say I have suspected this for a very long time; but if CNN says it’s so, it makes me happy that I have no plans to fly during any of the holidays.
But evidently the flying public also don’t have the sense they were born with and were raised by a particularly unmannered pack of wolves. I mean, come on—smuggling weed into Jamaica? Seriously?
I have to say I have suspected this for a very long time; but if CNN says it’s so, it makes me happy that I have no plans to fly during any of the holidays.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Thanksgiving 2010, Pt. 3
This holiday week is typically the most heavily-traveled in the US calendar; come tomorrow every TV station in the nation will have “news” teams at every airport even remotely close to the broadcast area, “reporting” on how many bazillion travelers are trying to get over the river to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving.
But there’s another travel story taking up electrons: the choice air travelers have in 70 airports of either going through the new Superman-X-Ray-Vision scanners or else submitting to a thorough pat down by TSA staff. (These scanners give a “nearly naked” view of anyone passing through them; presumably they would find your explosive underwear if you were of a mind to blow up your flight. The patters-down are the same TSA employees who’ve endeared themselves via their charm and professionalism to the flying public for the last eight years.) The scan/pat conundrum has been in place for a couple of weeks and has got a lot of bad press from travelers whose videoed experiences went viral over the Web.
(After the first couple of YouTube maelstroms the TSA started confiscating the mobile phones and video cameras of passengers who refused to be scanned. Good to know the agency can actually learn; bad to know that it’s the wrong lesson.)
Airline pilots have also decried the process and they’ve been given a dispensation from having to do either. The intensity of the scan multiplied by the number of times an air crew has to show up for work may be a health hazard; and TSA chief John Pistole has declared pilots “trusted partners who ensure the safety of millions of passengers flying every day.”
(Evidently, however, those members of the crew who don’t sit on the flight deck aren’t “trusted partners”; flight attendants will have to go through the scanners or submit to pat-downs, even though they generally go through the same security background check as pilots. Pistole spoke about how everything would fall apart if pilots couldn’t make their way expeditiously to their craft. But nothing happens until the stews show up, so I’m not getting the distinction that’s being made.)
So there’s been a call for a National Opt Out Day tomorrow—the busiest flying day of the year—by having travelers decline the scan and go through the pat-down, thus slowing down the security process. The boycotters are also asking passengers to demand the pat-downs in full public view, so that everyone will understand what the experience is.
Naturally, Pistole has responded by urging people not to do anything that will screw up a system that’s barely hanging together now. (Not the way he precisely described it.) This is all for our protection, etc.
Well, but is it? Seems to me like TSA has been three steps behind terrorist technology from the git-go. I do not feel like they’re actually anticipating what may be coming down the pike; just reacting to what has been discovered apparently by chance in the past. I’m reminded of the folk tale about Foolish Jack, who hasn’t got the sense he was born with. He drops a gold coin he was bringing to his mother into a river; when she berates him by saying he should have put it in his pocket, he says he will follow her instructions. So the next day he’s given a pitcher of milk to take home; he pours it in his pocket. His mother says he should have balanced the pitcher on his head and he says he will follow her instructions. The next day it’s butter, which he puts on his head and it melts. And so on and so forth.
(Hear a story teller’s version of the tale here.)
And I think I’m seeing butter dripping down all the heads of TSA, and that doesn’t make me feel secure at all.
What would make me feel better is if people would stop trying to user their persons to blow up things, including aircraft, nightclubs, pizza parlors and government buildings.
If they’re not going to do that, then governments should think about what actually might protect the non-explosive citizenry, come up with 1)a plan; 2)truly appropriate technologies; and 3)consistent policies to enforce and use 1) and 2).
“Coming up with” includes having the intestinal fortitude to fully fund the programs (to include investing in initial and continuing staff training) as well as to stand up to the various industries and special interests that don’t want to have to take extra steps (or expense—since their cost-benefit risk analysis has indicated that it’s cheaper to lose a 757 every once in a while than to run thorough security checks on all cargo shipments) to comply.
I’m also beginning to think that profiling should be a part of the plan. If non-TSA security agencies on US soil think it’s key to sniffing out terrorists before they commit acts of violence, why is it unreasonable to include it as part of programs to ensure the safety of air travel? I have an Irish name on US passport; I’ve never been asked to step out of line for a private chat when I passed through HM Immigration at Heathrow, but I know I fit a profile and I was therefore careful to be extra-special not-crabby or –flip when the agents asked about the purpose of my visit. I respect the fact that there are serious reasons why Irish names on US passports entering the country could raise someone’s anxiety level and I’m willing to let them do what they need to do to satisfy themselves that I have not, in fact, packed any undeclared gelignite in my carry-on.
Governments should also at least look like they’ve thought further ahead than the self-explosive contingent, so that the rest of us don’t always feel like the latest “program” is a reaction to the last attempt, but is actually an anticipation of the next one. (What’re the odds that now there’s going to be a ban on toner cartridges on aircraft?)
And if they’re going to scan, pat, wave crystals or consult Ouija boards at airports, I want the system to be the same at every damn facility, and I want everyone who flies to know that if something off the scan/pat/Ouija/crystal spectrum turns up you are gonna have some esplaining to do, Lucy, and you sure as hell aren’t going to make your flight.
It’s all this muddle that’s pissing me off.
In the meantime, it’ll be interesting for once to stay at home and watch those travel-chaos-at-the-airport stories on the local channels to see if any travelers really are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.
But there’s another travel story taking up electrons: the choice air travelers have in 70 airports of either going through the new Superman-X-Ray-Vision scanners or else submitting to a thorough pat down by TSA staff. (These scanners give a “nearly naked” view of anyone passing through them; presumably they would find your explosive underwear if you were of a mind to blow up your flight. The patters-down are the same TSA employees who’ve endeared themselves via their charm and professionalism to the flying public for the last eight years.) The scan/pat conundrum has been in place for a couple of weeks and has got a lot of bad press from travelers whose videoed experiences went viral over the Web.
(After the first couple of YouTube maelstroms the TSA started confiscating the mobile phones and video cameras of passengers who refused to be scanned. Good to know the agency can actually learn; bad to know that it’s the wrong lesson.)
Airline pilots have also decried the process and they’ve been given a dispensation from having to do either. The intensity of the scan multiplied by the number of times an air crew has to show up for work may be a health hazard; and TSA chief John Pistole has declared pilots “trusted partners who ensure the safety of millions of passengers flying every day.”
(Evidently, however, those members of the crew who don’t sit on the flight deck aren’t “trusted partners”; flight attendants will have to go through the scanners or submit to pat-downs, even though they generally go through the same security background check as pilots. Pistole spoke about how everything would fall apart if pilots couldn’t make their way expeditiously to their craft. But nothing happens until the stews show up, so I’m not getting the distinction that’s being made.)
So there’s been a call for a National Opt Out Day tomorrow—the busiest flying day of the year—by having travelers decline the scan and go through the pat-down, thus slowing down the security process. The boycotters are also asking passengers to demand the pat-downs in full public view, so that everyone will understand what the experience is.
Naturally, Pistole has responded by urging people not to do anything that will screw up a system that’s barely hanging together now. (Not the way he precisely described it.) This is all for our protection, etc.
Well, but is it? Seems to me like TSA has been three steps behind terrorist technology from the git-go. I do not feel like they’re actually anticipating what may be coming down the pike; just reacting to what has been discovered apparently by chance in the past. I’m reminded of the folk tale about Foolish Jack, who hasn’t got the sense he was born with. He drops a gold coin he was bringing to his mother into a river; when she berates him by saying he should have put it in his pocket, he says he will follow her instructions. So the next day he’s given a pitcher of milk to take home; he pours it in his pocket. His mother says he should have balanced the pitcher on his head and he says he will follow her instructions. The next day it’s butter, which he puts on his head and it melts. And so on and so forth.
(Hear a story teller’s version of the tale here.)
And I think I’m seeing butter dripping down all the heads of TSA, and that doesn’t make me feel secure at all.
What would make me feel better is if people would stop trying to user their persons to blow up things, including aircraft, nightclubs, pizza parlors and government buildings.
If they’re not going to do that, then governments should think about what actually might protect the non-explosive citizenry, come up with 1)a plan; 2)truly appropriate technologies; and 3)consistent policies to enforce and use 1) and 2).
“Coming up with” includes having the intestinal fortitude to fully fund the programs (to include investing in initial and continuing staff training) as well as to stand up to the various industries and special interests that don’t want to have to take extra steps (or expense—since their cost-benefit risk analysis has indicated that it’s cheaper to lose a 757 every once in a while than to run thorough security checks on all cargo shipments) to comply.
I’m also beginning to think that profiling should be a part of the plan. If non-TSA security agencies on US soil think it’s key to sniffing out terrorists before they commit acts of violence, why is it unreasonable to include it as part of programs to ensure the safety of air travel? I have an Irish name on US passport; I’ve never been asked to step out of line for a private chat when I passed through HM Immigration at Heathrow, but I know I fit a profile and I was therefore careful to be extra-special not-crabby or –flip when the agents asked about the purpose of my visit. I respect the fact that there are serious reasons why Irish names on US passports entering the country could raise someone’s anxiety level and I’m willing to let them do what they need to do to satisfy themselves that I have not, in fact, packed any undeclared gelignite in my carry-on.
Governments should also at least look like they’ve thought further ahead than the self-explosive contingent, so that the rest of us don’t always feel like the latest “program” is a reaction to the last attempt, but is actually an anticipation of the next one. (What’re the odds that now there’s going to be a ban on toner cartridges on aircraft?)
And if they’re going to scan, pat, wave crystals or consult Ouija boards at airports, I want the system to be the same at every damn facility, and I want everyone who flies to know that if something off the scan/pat/Ouija/crystal spectrum turns up you are gonna have some esplaining to do, Lucy, and you sure as hell aren’t going to make your flight.
It’s all this muddle that’s pissing me off.
In the meantime, it’ll be interesting for once to stay at home and watch those travel-chaos-at-the-airport stories on the local channels to see if any travelers really are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)